Page 31 of Keeping Caroline
With his massive hand wrapped around my bicep, he propelled me toward the door. My heels scraped against the pavement as they dragged me outside, the morning sun blinding me momentarily. Thoughts moved through my mind in a chaotic rush as I struggled to understand what was happening, and why it was happening to me.
Without another word, they yanked me toward the black SUV—the same black SUV I’d seen parked outside my house several times. The man on the left yanked open the rear door and shoved me inside, my shoulder landing hard on the opposite side of the vehicle as the door slammed behind me. Through the tinted windows, I watched the bookstore grow smaller in the distance as we drove away.
Once we were a few miles away from the bookstore, the man riding shotgun twisted around to face me, his eyes invisible behind dark lenses. From what I could tell, he was middle-aged, his dirty blond hair turning gray. He still held his gun in his hand, as though I was stupid enough to try and fight him completely unarmed in a moving vehicle.
“You must have caused someone a lot of trouble for the hefty bounty payout they offered to whoever could bring you in.” Taking a slow look at me from head to toe, his lips twisted, and he reached forward to slide the barrel of the gun up the inside of my thigh. I jerked away, tears burning the backs of my eyes as he reached forward and grabbed my thigh to hold me in place. “Calm down, little girl. I was just admiring the goods. I can see why the high dollar if they plan on selling you at auction. Those thighs on you just beg to be wrapped around a man’s waist, perfect for making babies. You would bring in a high price, indeed.”
Panic clawed at my throat, my mind looking for a way out even while I saw none. No matter what it took, if they were planning on selling me, I had to find a way out of it—any way out.
The SUV sped through the streets, weaving in and out of traffic with reckless abandon. To my relief, the passenger had turned back around in his seat, my captors remaining silent and ignoring my presence in the backseat. I kept my eyes fixed out the window, watching for any landmarks that might tell me where we were headed, but the man in the passenger seat noticed and turned back around before climbing over the center console and dropping into the seat beside me. Before I could even think of what he intended to do to me, he pulled a black cloth out of his pocket, pressing it to my face. I flinched as a cloying chemical scent filled my nostrils. I pushed against his hold, but it was no use. As darkness seeped into the edges of my mind, my last thoughts were of Evie. I prayed she had called Ethan or 911. I had to stay alive for my little girl, no matter what these men had planned.
When I came to, my head throbbed. A blindfold covered my eyes, preventing me from seeing anything, and my hands were bound behind my back. Panic set in, making the air too thin as my lungs tried to take in enough oxygen to keep me conscious. The vehicle stopped. A moment later, doors slammed as the men got out, then wrenched me from the backseat. I stumbled along in their hold, faint sounds of gravel crunching under our footsteps.
A heavy metal door creaked open, and we entered a musty, cold space. My footsteps echoed off concrete walls and bare walls, the scent of dust in the air making me sneeze.
Shoving me down into a chair, one of the men removed my blindfold. I blinked against the harsh fluorescent lights of what looked like an abandoned warehouse. Dust motes danced in the beams from the dingy windows near the ceiling.
A separate set of men stood before me, one with long black hair pulled back in a low ponytail, mid forties, and the other an older man, his gray hair balding in the center. Behind them, two younger men stood guard, assault rifles in their hands as they watched me.
The man with the long hair stepped forward and grasped my jaw, his face inches from mine.
“Where’s your father being kept, Scarlett? Tell me where to find Ivy, and we might just let you go.”
I met his glare, forcing a strength into my voice that I did not feel. “I told your men in the car that I don’t know what any of this is about. I do not know where Ivy is.”
He sneered. “Have it your way. I’m not a patient man, but we’ve got a little time to jog your memory.”
Turning on his heel, he followed the other man out the door, a heavy lock clicking behind them, and then I was alone, still secured to the chair. I tested the ropes, but they held fast. I was trapped—for now.
Knowing panicking wouldn’t help, I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. I needed to stay calm and assess the situation.
Glancing around, I spotted a grimy window about fifteen feet up on the wall to my left. If I could get free and reach it, I realized it may be my only way out, but I had to be smart and patient—make them underestimate me.
With nowhere to go, my thoughts turned to Evie, scared and alone back at the bookstore. At least she was safe for the moment, though no doubt terrified about what happened to me. I wondered if Scarlett and Ethan had gone to the bookstore yet to find her there alone. And Tristan… Once he knew I was gone, he would be frantic and would use all his technical skills to track me down. I wished I could reach out to them and let them both know I was alright for now, that I would not give up. That was the moment when I remembered the tracking divide still clipped to the band of my watch, but my hands were bound behind my back. I pulled on the ropes again, but there was no give.
Footsteps approached and I steeled myself, needing to be strong for my family.
The door opened and the long-haired man entered alone, cracking his knuckles. A pistol was holstered at his hip and a dagger around his thigh. I realized it was time for me to put on an act. If I was meek and compliant, maybe they would at least unbind my hands. I needed the use of them to have any chance at escape.
“Ready to talk?” he asked, straddling the chair in front of me.
I dropped my gaze. “Please. I don’t know anything. Just let me go back to my family.”
Hand shooting up, he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Nice try, but we’re just getting started.”
I took a shaky breath as he released my chin and began pacing around me. “Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice quivering. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to tell you. I don't know where Ivy is.”
He let out a humorous chuckle, turning back to face me. “Come on, we’re not idiots. We know you’re Ivy Etienne’s daughter, so you must know something about where he’s being kept. Just tell us where he is, and this will all be over.”
Widening my eyes in faux confusion, I shook my head. “I’m telling you, you have the wrong person. My name is Amy. I do not know who Ivy is or where he is.”
A burst of pain shot through my face as he backhanded me, several teeth tearing into the inside of my cheek and filling my mouth with blood.
“Wrong answer. I’m done playing nicely. You’re going to tell me everything you know about the Etienne organization and the deal he has with the FBI, or you won't be leaving this room.”
Defeated, I slumped forward, pulling on the ropes binding my wrists. “Please, let me go. I’m just a single mom working to pay for my child’s medical treatments. I don't know anything about any organization.”
Grabbing a handful of my hair, he yanked my head back. I cried out as he pressed a knife to my throat, the blade stinging as it grazed my skin. “Last chance. Give me what I want, or you die right here.”